The cold of the seer's touch lingered on my forehead long after she had withdrawn her hand, a subtle but undeniable presence in the air. My body tensed as I struggled to steady my breath. The room around me faded, and my vision blurred as if the very fabric of reality was beginning to unravel.

The moment the seer's touch connected with my skin, everything changed. The dim light of the hut disappeared. I was no longer in the cluttered room filled with herbs and old books. No longer standing before a woman who seemed to hold every truth of the world in her eyes.

I blinked, and the world fell away, replaced by an empty, unbroken fog.

My pulse quickened as my heart raced against the disorienting sensation of being suspended in nothingness. I opened my mouth to call out, but no sound emerged. The silence was all-encompassing, swallowing me whole, until all that remained was the soft, pulsing echo of my thoughts.

"Where am I?" I asked aloud, but the words felt hollow in the void.

"You are between worlds," a voice answered—familiar yet distant. The seer's voice, only now it seemed stretched across time, impossibly far away. It vibrated through the fog, carrying with it an underlying power, a weight that pressed against my chest.

"Between what?" I whispered, my eyes searching the gray mist for any sign of form, of life. But there was nothing. No ground, no walls, no sky—just endless, swirling fog. The stillness pressed against me like a physical thing, almost suffocating in its heaviness.

"Between the past and the future," the voice replied. "This is a place where time does not exist as you understand it. A place where all that was and all that is to come meet."

I frowned, trying to comprehend what she meant. It made no sense. The past and future could not exist at the same time. Could they?

"Time does not matter here, Prince Alaric," the seer's voice continued, now echoing from all sides. "Here, you must look inward. It is not the world you must understand, but the man you have become."

My breath caught in my throat as a sudden coldness gripped me. "The man I have become..." My voice trailed off, and a ripple of unease passed through me. I had thought—no, I had known—that the prince I had been was still a part of me. I had clung to that image, that memory. It was the only thing that kept me tethered to this new world. The crown, the throne, the kingdom I had once ruled—they were all I had, and I had to get them back.

But the seer's words hit me like a blow. I wasn't the same man anymore. I wasn't that man at all.

"You must see," the seer urged, her voice gentle, almost sad. "See beyond the illusion of who you think you are. See beyond the crown, the power, and the glory. You are something more—and something less—than what you once believed."

I struggled to understand. The world around me, or perhaps the world within me, was spinning out of control. I closed my eyes, trying to focus, but I felt the weight of a thousand lives pressing in on me. My memories, fleeting and half-formed, collided with each other—flashes of battles, laughter, grief, all interwoven into an endless tapestry of confusion.

"Why is it so hard?" I muttered under my breath, my voice filled with frustration. "Why can't I remember? Why can't I be who I was?"

"You are asking the wrong questions," the seer's voice answered softly, and I could almost hear her sadness in her tone. "It is not about remembering who you were, Alaric. It is about accepting who you are now."

The word "accepting" felt like a knife in my chest. Accepting what? This fragile, unfamiliar body? This confusion, this loss, this void that had taken root in my soul?

But before I could respond, the mist around me began to shift. The fog that had obscured everything began to break apart, slowly at first, like the first crack of dawn. The swirling gray gave way to light, and as the light grew stronger, I found myself standing in a place that was both painfully familiar and yet unrecognizable.

I was standing in the courtyard of the palace. The grand marble walls stretched high above me, glinting in the afternoon sun. The sound of laughter and chatter filled the air, mingling with the clang of armor as guards walked the perimeter. The smell of roasting meats and fresh bread wafted on the breeze.

This was my kingdom, my home.

I could feel the presence of the people—the nobles, the soldiers, the servants. I could hear their voices, feel their gazes on me. And yet, it was wrong. It was a dream, a phantom of what once was.

I looked down at my hands, and they were those of a prince—pale, long-fingered, adorned with rings. The familiar weight of a golden crown rested on my brow, and yet, the metal felt strange, cold, and heavy. It was no longer a symbol of power, but of a burden. A weight I couldn't bear.

I turned, seeing the grand staircase leading to the throne room. At the top, there was a throne made of gold and velvet, carved from the finest materials, but even from a distance, I could see the intricate designs of thorns etched into the sides. Thorns. The symbol of the royal family.

The people, the guards, the servants—they all watched me with empty eyes. Their faces held no respect, no admiration. Only judgment.

I felt the sudden pressure in my chest, a rush of anxiety, and my breath quickened. I took a step forward, but my legs felt like they were made of stone.

"You are not him anymore, Alaric," the seer's voice cut through the haze, and it was as if the very air itself was speaking to me.

I could feel her presence, though I could not see her, and her words pierced through the haze of my memories. Not him—not the prince I had once been. Not the ruler. Not the son of the kingdom's bloodline.

I reached out, desperate to cling to the image of the throne, but it slipped away from me, crumbling like ash between my fingers. The palace began to fade, the walls turning to mist, the voices of the people distorting into muffled sounds.

"What is this?" I gasped, as I stumbled backward, trying to maintain my footing. "What is happening?"

"This is the past," the seer's voice answered with quiet certainty. "It is a dream. A memory that will never return. The weight you carry, the crown you cling to—it no longer defines you. Your time here has ended."

I wanted to scream at her, to demand she show me the truth. Show me how to get it all back. The crown, the kingdom, the power. But deep down, a part of me knew. Knew that what she was saying was true.

The fog grew thicker once more, the mist swirling and consuming the image of the palace. It faded into nothingness, and with it, the memories I had clung to for so long.

I fell to my knees, the world around me spinning, my heart hammering in my chest. The seer's voice grew softer, almost like a lullaby in the distance.

"You must accept this truth, Alaric. The world you knew is gone. You cannot go back to it. But you can choose what comes next."

I clutched my chest, gasping for air. The emptiness inside me seemed to stretch endlessly, deeper than I could have imagined. It felt like I was falling through an abyss, a pit of loss and confusion that threatened to swallow me whole. Who was I now? What was I supposed to be?

"Who am I?" I whispered, the words feeling so hollow, so broken.

"You are more than the crown. You are more than the kingdom," the seer's voice came again, clear and strong. "You are the man who chooses what happens next. And you will find the path that is yours alone."

The fog around me began to fade, and I felt the weight of her words settle into my chest like a heavy stone. I wasn't the prince I had once been. I wasn't the man I had thought I was.

But who was I now?

As the mist cleared, I found myself back in the seer's hut, the warmth of the fire once again caressing my skin. The seer stood before me, her pale eyes full of knowing.

"You are ready now," she said softly, her voice both kind and stern. "The journey ahead will not be easy. But you must walk it, Alaric. You must find your way, for it is yours to choose."

I nodded slowly, a tear slipping down my cheek.

The crown, the throne, my old life—they were gone. And with them, a part of me died. But something else stirred inside me, something new, something yet to be discovered.

For the first time since I awoke in this new world, I felt the stirrings of hope. Perhaps, just perhaps, I could find a new purpose. A new path to follow. And whatever the future held, it would be mine to face.